


Unzar

by Morgyn Leri (morgynleri)



Series: Agnu Ra Nutû [32]
Category: The Lord of the Rings - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe, Gen, Grief/Mourning
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-03-31
Updated: 2014-03-31
Packaged: 2018-01-17 17:41:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 509
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1396717
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/morgynleri/pseuds/Morgyn%20Leri
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Denethor has been seen only for Council meetings and official functions, otherwise hiding in his study, but he doesn't tell Faramir to leave, or push him away.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Unzar

Faramir carefully pushes open the door to his father's study, peering into the dim room for a moment before he steps inside. Padding on bare feet to the chairs near the hearth, one of which is occupied by a slumped figure. He sits down at Denethor's feet without speaking, leaning his head against his father's knee. Boromir has thrown himself into his duties as Captain of the Tower-Guard since their mother's funeral, and he's not there as he had been ever since Faramir could remember.

Denethor has been seen only for Council meetings and official functions, otherwise hiding in his study, but he doesn't tell Faramir to leave, or push him away. Just strokes a hand over Faramir's hair, almost like Finduilas, before she'd been ill more and more, and didn't have the strength to play with Faramir or even just sit with him in the evenings as he pored over one book or another.

"Should I light a candle for you, papa?" he asks when the room is darker, the sun creeping toward the western horizon.

There isn't a response right away, and his father's hand stills on his hair, making Faramir look up, his brows furrowing slightly as he tries to see his father's face. It's hard, in the dim light, and for a moment, he's not sure what he sees, before the features resolve into Denethor's face, a small, sad smile on it.

"I will light it, if you will bring it to me." His father's voice is rough, and sounds different from usual. Faramir thinks he's been crying, and he reaches out to hug his father after he gets to his feet. Waiting a moment before he lets go, and pads over to the desk to fetch the candle-holder there, with an unlit taper in it.

Denethor scrapes ash from the banked fire to expose a coal he uses to light the wick, the soft light bringing some color back to the room. Faramir pretends not to see the red rims around his father's eyes, and follows as Denethor moves to the desk. He settles at his father's feet again once Denethor's seated, and leans against him.

"Do you remember the Master of Pelargir?" Denethor's voice is quiet, just loud enough for Faramir to hear, and Faramir turns his head so he can look up at his father.

"I remember him." They'd gone to Pelargir a year before Finduilas had fallen ill the last time, and the master of the city had taken up more of Denethor's time than he'd wanted.

The question proves to be the beginning of a quiet conversation over Denethor's work as Steward, accompanied by the rustle of parchment and scratch of quill nib. Faramir is glad Boromir isn't here, even though this is instruction his brother should have, more so than he. It's a chance to spend time with his father, and it continues over the next weeks and months, his classroom time adjusted to allow him to sit next to his father and learn the practicalities of ruling Gondor.

**Author's Note:**

> Title means "steward".


End file.
